


light a fire, a flame in my heart

by nooelgallagher



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: But it totally works, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Harry plays matchmaker, M/M, New Relationship, This is literally nothing but, This started as a little drabble and turned into this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nooelgallagher/pseuds/nooelgallagher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>light a fire, a fire, a spark<br/>light a fire, a flame in my heart<br/>we'll run wild<br/>we'll be glowing in the dark<br/>-charlie brown, coldplay</p><p>Liam is okay with being single, really. Until he meets Jordan. He doesn't know whether to hug Harry or kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a tiny drabble for a couple friends and turned into this multi-part ficlet. I hope it puts a smile on your face.

Liam blames Harry. That might not be entirely fair, but he’s going to do it anyway. It was his idea to go to that UCLA game three weeks ago, tickets courtesy of Jeff, after Louis had flat out told him no.

_“Come on, Liam, it’ll be fun.”_

_“I don’t know what’s going on half the time.”_

_“I’ll teach you.”_

So Liam had found himself on the sidelines of an American college football game, UCLA versus Washington State, and Liam had been kind of enjoying himself. Sure he didn’t understand half of what Harry was talking about in his attempts to explain, and he got a little bit concerned when the quarterback for UCLA had gotten nailed on a particularly violent sack, but it was exciting. The UCLA crowd decked out in blue and gold behind him was _loud_ , and the night was chilly. Harry was having the time of his life, nursing a beer and chatting with anyone who wandered by, completely incognito with his hair up in a bun and wearing Louis’ Adidas hoodie.

It was in the second half when everything happened, and why Liam is in the position he’s currently in. He’d been hovering next to Harry as Harry read off a text from Louis, something about ordering takeaway for when they got home from the game, when he felt eyes on him. It’s not an uncommon feeling for him. People who think they recognize him will stare at him without really realizing they’re doing it, only to avert their gaze when he catches him. Sometimes they approach him. Sometimes they don’t. Only this time when he looks up he’s not confronted with a wide-eyed girl, mouth open and blushing, or a parent with their phone poised in his face undoubtedly trying to get a picture of him to say, “Look who I saw!” No, this time, it’s a young guy looking at him.

The first strange thing is that the guy isn’t even really staring at him. He’s more just watching, eyebrows pinched together as if in thought. He’s tall. A few inches taller than Liam, definitely. He’s built like a football player, but he’s not in uniform. And he’s still watching Liam. He can barely make out what look like brown eyes in the distance. By this point Liam barely hears Harry, who is now on the phone with Louis rattling off a list of food he wants Louis to order. The guy is still watching him. Liam jerks his head once, a nod in greeting, toward the mystery guy.

The second strange thing is that the guy’s eyes widen ever so slightly before he nods back once and whips his head around to the field. He doesn’t look back.

“Okay, love, bye.” Liam hears Harry end his call with Louis before a muttered, “It wasn’t that much, Jesus Christ.” He feels more than sees Harry walk up next to him, but he still jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Who are we looking at?”

Liam doesn’t really want to explain, but his eyes betray him. Harry follows his line of sight to the guy a few yards away.

“Guy in the black jacket with red stripes?” Harry asks.

Liam sighs and nods. “Yeah.”

“What about him?” Harry’s grip on Liam’s shoulder tightens.

Liam shrugs, feeling his cheeks blush. “Dunno, he was just looking at me.”

“What?” Harry asks. “Was he being a dick?”

Liam has to laugh at that. He turns to his friend, giggling at the little curls that have torn free from Harry’s bun, and shakes his head. “Not from fifteen feet away, man. No. It was just strange.”

Harry shrugs. “He probably just recognized you. Let’s go say hi.”

“What?” Liam shrieks, fiercely grabbing at the back of Harry’s - Louis’ - hoodie, but Harry is already walking across the grass. Fuck.

Liam shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shuffles along behind Harry, who is totally oblivious to the fact that Liam knows - _he knows_ \- he’s going to sound awkward and stupid talking to this total stranger. But Harry loves talking to people, can charm the leaves off a tree, and before he knows it they’ve arrived next to the mystery guy and Harry is tapping him on the shoulder.

Liam isn’t fully aware that he’s holding his breath as the guy turns around. He is fully aware that he’s totally fucked.

“Hi!” Harry greets, smiling his winning smile. He holds out his right hand, his left still clutching his beer, and says, “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Harry.”

The guy doesn’t bat an eye as he extends his own hand and shakes Harry’s. “I’m Jordan. Nice to meet you.” Then his gaze shifts, lands firmly on Liam, and his eyes light up with a hint of recognition before he schools his expression and holds out his hand to Liam.

Liam isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s staring.

See, the guy - _Jordan_ \- is actually very tall. With very nice, dark, clear skin. And biceps. Liam can’t really see them but he knows they’re there, hidden by Jordan’s jacket. His eyes are also very dark, and even though he looks tough, his presence isn’t threatening. Liam feels himself bite his lower lip as he more or less gives Jordan a once-over, and then he feels Harry jab him in the side. Which, _ow_.

But yeah. He should probably stop staring.

“Liam,” he says, holding out his hand to shake Jordan’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Jordan nods, a little smile playing on his lips like he’s enjoying Liam’s awkwardness, and then he turns to Harry again. “I feel like I’ve seen you before. Do you come to a lot of games?”

Liam shakes his head, feeling like a complete asshole, but Harry chirps, “I’ve been to a few, but I think you might recognize us from somewhere else.”

Jordan replies, “You look familiar but I can’t figure out why, and it’s kind of driving me crazy.”

Harry and Liam share a private grin with each other, Liam laughing lightly because it never gets any less pompous to tell people you’re in a band.

“Have you heard of One Direction?” Harry asks.

Jordan’s eyes widen once again before he erupts in laughter. He claps a hand on his knee and rolls his eyes up to the sky. “Of course,” he says, “I knew I’d seen you before, just not in person.”

Harry laughs too. “I thought we’d done a good job of going under the radar,” he admits, “I’m wearing my boyfriend’s hoodie and I thought that was as good a disguise as any.”

Liam shoots Harry a look. They don’t know anything about this kid, he could go blabbing about how one of the guys in One Direction said he had a boyfriend and then everything will blow up. Well, it’ll blow up sooner than planned. Or maybe Jordan is actually a giant homophobe and will make some shitty comment, and it won’t matter how attractive he is because he’s a dick.

Liam is surprised, though, when Jordan laughs and goes, “Well, he’s got good taste. I’ve got a deal with Adidas.”

“What do you mean?” Liam asks, the question tumbling out of his mouth before he has a chance to decide if he wants to draw attention to himself.

“I played for UCLA,” he answers, waving a hand toward the field. “Wide receiver. I’m up for the draft soon.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Harry says, smiling wide. “Did you come back to support your team?”

Jordan nods. “Yeah, I like to come back and watch my friends when I can.”

“That’s nice,” Liam adds, flushing when Jordan smiles at him. Jesus, what is _wrong_ with him?

“So what are you guys doing in California?” Jordan asks. “You’re not on tour.”

Harry grins and takes a sip of beer. “And how do you know that?”

Liam makes out the faintest hint of a blush on Jordan’s cheek. He runs a hand back through his short hair, his arm muscles tensing. A strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans is exposed where his jacket rides up. Liam needs to get a grip. “I have some friends who are really into you guys,” he says.

“Just friends?” Harry prods, laughing.

“One in particular,” Jordan says, “played Four on repeat for a solid six months. She’ll freak when she hears I met you.”

Liam smiles and shoots Harry a look. He turns to Jordan. “Do you have her number?”

“Yeah,” Jordan says, looking confused. “Why?”

“Would you mind if I called her to say hello?”

Jordan’s eyebrows practically shoot into his hairline. “Really? You’d do that?”

Liam shrugs. “Of course. It’s no trouble.”

Jordan reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out, swiping at the screen in concentration. He holds out out to Liam. “You don’t have to,” he says.

Liam shakes his head. “We’d like to.” He glances at the screen to see the name. Mandy. He clicks the call button and puts it on speaker, holding it up between his and Harry’s faces. Jordan looks on, smiling wide and laughing.

It takes a couple rings before the other line picks up. “Hey Jordy,” a girl’s voice greets.

“Hi, is this Mandy?” Liam asks, holding in a giggle as Harry rolls his eyes at his greeting.

There is a pause before a tentative voice replies, “Yeah, who is this?”

“It’s Liam from One Direction.”

“And Harry,” Harry pipes up.

There is short pause. Then another. Then an intake of breath.

“Are you kidding me?” Mandy asks, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement in her voice.

“No, love, it’s us,” Liam says. “How are you?”

“Oh my fucking God!” she shrieks. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to scream in your ear. But oh my God.”

“I take it you’ve heard of us, then,” Harry says, smirking at Liam over his cup. Cheeky bastard.

“How is this happening?” she asks, voice high and almost out of breath.

“We’re here with your friend Jordan at the UCLA game,” Liam answers. “He told us you liked Four.”

“Oh my God,” she repeats. “I’ll be mad at him for throwing me under the bus later because I can’t believe this, this is crazy.”

Jordan watches the exchange silently, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Liam blushes when Jordan gives him a fond, thankful look. Liam turns back to the phone.

“So what’s your favorite song from Four?” he asks.

“No Control,” she answers without missing a beat, like she’s had the answer prepared. She probably did. “Oh and Harry, Where Did Broken Hearts Go changed my life.”

Harry cackles a laugh. “Thank you,” he replies.

“Overall, though, my favorite song of yours is Ready to Run,” she says. “Not that you asked.”

Liam laughs. “Did you see us on tour, love?” Liam asks.

“Of course!” Mandy says. “I was near the catwalk and got hit with silly string when you and Louis had a fight!”

Both Liam and Harry laugh at that. “Louis will be very happy to know that,” Harry says. Liam can’t help but smirk at the fact that Harry can’t keep the fond out of his voice, even when he’s talking about Louis in a silly string fight.

“You guys are amazing!” Mandy goes on. “I can’t believe I get to talk to you. You’re all so talented.”

“Thank you,” Harry repeats. “That’s very kind.”

“Oh, and I wanted to tell you that I can’t wait for your new album! I’m totally going to put this one on repeat too. I told everyone how you wrote a ton on Four.”

Liam’s chest warms at the fact that she seems to really take them seriously as musicians, not just as a boy band. It’s moments like this that remind him why they do this. Why they put up with the bullshit. It makes people happy.

“You’re sweet,” Liam says, “Maybe Jordan can give us your address and we’ll send you a signed copy?”

“Please!” Mandy exclaims. “That would be awesome.”

“Of course,” Liam says. A glance around him shows that people are starting to file out of the stadium. The game ended, and he didn’t even notice. “Unfortunately we have to go, Mandy, but it was lovely talking to you!”

“You too!” she says, “Thank you! I love you!”

“And we love you,” Harry says. “Bye Mandy!”

Liam disconnects the call and hands it back to Jordan, who is still laughing. “You just made her entire year, you know.”

Harry shrugs. “It was nothing.”

“It was something,” Jordan says. He fixes a look at Liam. “Thank you.”

Liam shrugs, self-conscious under the attention. “You’re welcome.”

“We should get going,” Harry says. “We’re going to get stuck in awful traffic.”

“Right,” Jordan says. He’s still looking at Liam, and Liam’s face is still on fire. “Oh, uh, did you mean what you said about getting Mandy a signed copy?”

“Of course!” Liam says. “Do you know her address off the top of your head?”

“Shit, no,” Jordan replies. “I always get the apartment number messed up.”

“No worries,” Harry says. “Why don’t we give you Liam’s number and you can text it to him later?”

Liam’s eyes shoot open, mouth dropping open as he shoots Harry a panicked look. What the fuck. What the _fuck_.

“Oh, uh, if you’re sure?” Jordan asks. He doesn’t say it to Harry, though. He’s still looking at Liam.

“He’s sure,” Harry answers for him.

“Okay,” Jordan agrees, reaching for his phone in his pocket again. He types in the number that Harry rattles off. “Thanks,” he says, once he pockets it again. “I appreciate it.”

“We’re still in LA for a few weeks,” Harry goes on. “Do you fancy getting a drink one night? If you’re still around?”

“ _Harry_ ,” Liam hisses.

Harry, of course, ignores him. “If you’re not busy, of course.”

Jordan shrugs. “Yeah, that’d be cool,” he says. “I figured you guys would be super busy, or something.”

Harry shakes his head. “We have some free time. Liam will arrange it.”

“ _Harry_!” Liam says again.

“Let me give you my number too, then,” Jordan says, “and you can text me whenever.”

Liam’s heart stops. Harry is grinning next to him, utterly pleased with himself, and Jordan is looking at him with a small smile. For a second, he doesn’t hear the background noise of the thinning football crowd, or the shouts of the players coming in from the field. He’s entirely focused on the fact that Jordan is standing in front of him and smiling and Liam is so, so out of practice with this.

Finally, after what feels like five years but was probably only about five seconds, Liam squeaks out, “Sure.”

He plugs in Jordan’s number using shaky fingers, hoping beyond hope that Jordan doesn’t notice and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that Harry definitely does. It’s as Jordan finishes off the last of the number that he hears a voice call his name from behind him. A group of his teammates.

“I better go,” he says, jerking his thumb behind him to a small group of guys in uniforms. “It was really nice to meet you guys. I hope we can meet up again soon.” He holds out a hand for them to shake again.

“You too,” Harry says, “I’m sure we’ll see you again.”

“I’ll, uh, text you,” Liam says. He can feel his voice shake in his throat, and he’s never felt more out of depth.

“Great,” Jordan says, and he smiles again. “Again, nice meeting you. Bye!”

“Bye!” Harry calls out as Jordan jogs away.

Once he’s out of earshot, Liam whirls on Harry. “Harry, what the fuck?”

“You’ll thank me one day,” Harry says, smiling. “You just need a little push, is all. I saw you checking him out. And I saw him checking you out, too.”

“He wasn’t checking me out,” Liam replies.

“If you say so,” Harry replies. “Just text him and see what happens.” He grabs Liam by the arm and starts pulling him in the direction of the exit. “Let’s go. Louis ordered Chinese.”

That was three weeks ago.

It took Liam three weeks to build up the courage to finally text Jordan, a litany of niggling voices in his head telling him to stop being such a baby and to just text him, damn it. But he never knew what to say. He started and deleted dozens of texts, all variations of “Hey, how’s it going,” but all of them sounding cornier and cornier the more he stared at them.

Louis has given him shit for it nonstop, taking to reciting statistics about Jordan from UCLA’s football site to tease him. Somehow Niall found out, and he’d sent Liam a long text message telling him how he Googled Jordan and found out that he and Jordan were born three days apart and that means that they’re probably meant to be. Harry just keeps shooting him knowing smiles, but never brings up the game or Jordan at all. That’s almost worse.

It takes three weeks, but Liam had finally mustered up the courage to send a simple, “Hey,” to Jordan. That was two hours ago.

In that time, Liam has cleaned his flat. It’s small, because he doesn’t need tons of space in LA and always prefers to go back home during time off, but he’s needed here in LA so he deals with it. He’d gone for a run and showered. He’d made a sandwich and watched a bit of The Bourne Identity on TV. And in that time, his phone has been completely silent.

And then it isn’t.

Liam nearly breaks his neck reaching for his phone lying on the coffee table, the vibrations rattling against the glass and practically giving him a heart attack. His hands are sweaty as he picks it up, his fingers smearing over the glass as he unlocks it. He’s not ready for this.

Then he reads the answering text.

_Hey! I’m really glad you texted! :)_


	2. Part 2

The album launch kind of messes things up. That’s not technically true, but Liam blames it on the album launch anyway. It might really be his fault for wasting three weeks before finally growing some balls to just say a simple hello, but by the time Liam talks to Jordan again, the group is in the middle of album promo, and they still haven’t gone out for a drink. As a group, of course. All of them together. As friends. Or acquaintances. Whatever. **  
**

The conversations he’s had with Jordan have been, so far, stilted at best. He’d asked for Mandy’s address so he could make sure she got a signed copy of the deluxe version of the album. They’d all also signed one of the First Listen tote bags. He hopes she likes it, but he’s feeling pretty confident about that.

He’s less confident about Jordan.

Trying to coordinate with him to get a night when they’re all available to go out has been taxing. Jordan seems to have training pretty much every day. The week he’d had more free time, Liam and the boys had flown back to London for promo. It’s all been a tragic comedy of errors, and Liam is one step away from just calling it off.

Of course, that’s when Niall steps in.

Almost two weeks after that initial text from Jordan, the four of them are lounging around Louis and Harry’s house. They have an interview tomorrow and Liam isn’t too sure he’s in the right headspace for it. Louis and Harry are in the kitchen, giggling at whatever it is committed couples find funny, and Liam is laid on his back on their big comfy sofa in the living room, legs tangled with Niall as Niall tosses popcorn into the air and catches it with his mouth.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Niall says, not for the first time since this whole limbo thing started. Not even for the first time that evening. “You just send ‘im a text saying you want to meet up.”

Liam rolls his eyes and huffs. “Not that simple, Nialler.”

“Sure it is,” Niall replies, munching away. “You take your phone, you unlock it, you open your messages, and you shoot off a text. Easy.”

“Niall,” Liam groans, dragging a hand over his forehead. “Please.”

“Harry said he’s into you,” Niall goes on as if he’s completely oblivious to Liam’s inner turmoil. Which, come to think of it, he probably is. “You’re into him.”

“And we don’t know each other,” Liam reminds him. “We talked for like, ten minutes. And half of that time was spent talking to his friend.”

“You’re not going to get to know him if you keep bitching out,” Niall says. He leans over the sofa to grab his bottle of beer. “Group dates, man. I’m sure Louis is dying to meet him. It won’t be as much pressure.”

“Yeah, but _I’ve_ got to ask him, which is freaking me out.”

Niall sits up then, pulling his feet under his thighs as he sits cross-legged. He looks at Liam for a second, then his eyes drift to the coffee table. Liam follows his gaze to see his phone sitting innocently on the shiny wood finish. Oh no.

Liam makes to grab for his phone but Niall is too quick. He also spills his bowl of popcorn all over the floor. Harry won’t be happy about that.

“Niall!” Liam yells. “Give me my phone!”

“Uh uh,” Niall says, shaking his head. He holds Liam’s phone out of reach and brushes popcorn off his lap onto the floor to join the rest of the forgotten snack. “I can’t take the moping anymore. It’s time to get you laid.”

“Niall!” Liam yells again. “Niall, I swear to God.”

Louis wanders in from the kitchen at the commotion. He’s dressed in his joggers and his Skate Tough tank, even though the house is kind of cold because the heat is off. Harry insists on saving on energy. He takes in Liam’s flushed face and wide eyes, the popcorn strewn over the floor, and Niall furiously typing into Liam’s phone. Then, he calls over his shoulder, “Babe, where’s the hand vacuum?”

“What did Niall spill?” Harry calls back from the kitchen.

“Nothing major,” Louis calls back, and then he slowly walks into the living room. Niall is still typing. “What happened?”

Liam gives Louis a helpless look. “Niall stole my phone and is texting Jordan!”

Louis stands behind the sofa and peers over Niall’s shoulder, reading the text. “You used the wrong ‘you’re’,” he says. “It needs the apostrophe.”

“Got it,” Niall says.

“Louis!” Liam shrieks. “Seriously?”

Louis just shrugs. “Mate, you’ve gotta get out of your own way.”

“Harry!” Liam yells. “Could you come here please?”

A few seconds later, Harry comes into the living room, wiping his hands on a dish towel. He looks over at his boyfriend and Niall, who are still huddled together over Liam’s phone. He looks at Liam, looking well beyond frantic at this point, and puts his hands on his hips.

“Louis,” he chides. “What are you doing?”

“Just helping Payno along, love,” Louis replies. He doesn’t look back.

“Louis,” Harry says again, voice stern. He waits until Louis huffs a breath and turns around. “We talked about this.”

Louis looks a little bit guilty and goes to say something, but then Niall pipes up. “Okay, sent!”

Harry rolls his eyes to the ceiling and takes a breath. “What did you send, Niall?”

Niall clears his throat and reads out, “Hey mate. Me and the lads are back from London. If you’re free this weekend, maybe we could go get that drink?”

That is…not as bad as Liam was expecting it to be, actually. He breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth, trying to calm his pounding heart. Niall sets his phone back down on the coffee table and glances down at the popcorn still on the floor sadly. “Shit,” he mutters, “I wanted that popcorn.”

“Serves you right,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “Louis, the vacuum is in the closet.” He walks over to the sofa and puts a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “C’mon, I made brownies.”

“Pot ones?” Liam asks hopefully.

Harry winks and Liam laughs, rolling off the sofa and standing up. Niall starts picking up the popcorn by hand and Louis goes off in search of the vacuum. A loud crash from the closet doesn’t bode well, but Harry just rolls his eyes fondly and leads Liam back into the kitchen.

On the island is a tray of brownies that are still warm. Harry pulls a plastic knife from their cutlery drawer and starts cutting them into pieces. Harry always says that plastic works better to cut still warm baked goods than metal.

“What’s on your mind, Li?” Harry asks as he cuts straight, symmetrical lines into the brownies.

Liam shrugs. “Just a bit nervous, is all.”

Harry glances up from the brownies, then refocuses. “If you want me to yell at Louis later, I will,” he offers.

Liam laughs. “No, it’s okay. They were right. I need to get out of my own way.”

Satisfied with the portions, Harry pushes the tray across the countertop to Liam. “You’ll never know unless you try,” he says, “and I wouldn’t have suggested this if I didn’t think it could be something good for you.”

“I know,” Liam agrees. He reaches for a brownie and takes a bite, giving Harry a thumbs up as the still-warm deliciousness starts to melt on his tongue.

“Lima, your phone just buzzed!” Niall shouts from the living room. “It’s from your boy!”

Liam raises his eyebrows at Harry, who gestures for him to head back into the living room. He follows closely behind with a hand on Liam’s back, guiding him back to the sofa. Louis is on the floor trying to get all the small kernels of popcorn that embedded themselves into the carpet. Niall is back on the couch cradling the bowl of now-ruined popcorn.

“Did you read it?” Liam asks, reaching for his phone on the coffee table.

Niall shakes his head. “Nope, you should do the honors.”

It’s been weeks and reading texts from Jordan hasn’t gotten any easier. He swipes to unlock the screen, pulling up the text. He doesn’t even scan it before starting to read the words aloud to his friends. “I’m free. Sounds great. Can’t wait to see you.”

Louis lets out a whoop of excitement from the floor, dropping the vacuum and rushing to pull Liam into a hug. “Yeah, Payno!”

Niall is laughing from the couch. “I knew it! You can thank me now.”

Liam can’t see Harry, but he hears him say from behind him, “Looks like we’ve got a date to prepare for.”

—

Liam should never let Louis and Harry dress him.

He’s pretty sure his balls have lost all circulation, and he’s not entirely sure that the hat is a good idea. He’s in some weird mixture of Harry and Louis’ styles - skintight jeans that could very well be jeggings (he didn’t look at the label), a sky blue button-down shirt, a black blazer, one of Harry’s hats, and a pair of black Armani shoes that have been sitting at the back of his closet for a few months now.

He hears Louis whistle as he walks down the front stairs of his flat’s building. Louis is hanging out the back window of the car, grinning from ear to ear. “Look at you, Payno.”

Liam tugs self-consciously on the collar of his shirt as he climbs into the back seat across from Louis and Harry. “This is such a bad idea.”

Louis waves him off. “None of that. It’s just drinks. You can survive drinks.”

Just drinks. Sure.

Niall meets them at the bar, where they’re ushered in through the back of the building away from prying eyes and given a private table. Jordan isn’t here yet, but Niall wastes no time in ordering a round for all of them, as well as some shots. Liam isn’t sure but he thinks he hears him say something about birthday cake shots, even though it’s no one’s birthday. But he stopped trying to figure out Niall a long time ago.

It’s another five minutes before their waitress returns with another person in tow. Liam nearly chokes on the swallow of beer he’d just taken.

Jordan seems even taller when Liam is sitting down because he absolutely towers over them. He can’t quite tell in the dim lighting of the bar, but it looks like he’s paired black jeans with a dark blue polo and a leather jacket. Liam’s mouth dries up at the sight, never mind the beer he’d just swallowed seconds ago, and he averts his eyes because he’s going to stare again.

“Hey, guys,” Jordan greets, leaning across the table to shake everyone’s hand. Liam is incredibly aware of the condensation from his glass mixing with the sweat on his hand as he wipes his hand on his jeans before taking Jordan’s. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No big deal,” Niall says, scooting over in the booth to make more room for Jordan on his side. “I’m Niall. Pleasure meeting ‘ya.”

“Likewise,” Jordan answers. “I’m Jordan, but I guess you knew that,” he laughs lightly.

“Louis,” Louis says across the table. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

It’s such a fucking lie that Liam almost laughs. All they know is what the nosy bastards found out for themselves on Google. Liam never told them anything.

Jordan just grins and says, “All good things, I hope.”

“Very good things,” Louis confirms. “ _Liam_ told us how you used to play for UCLA. Impressive.”

Jordan shrugs, seeming not to notice the emphasis Louis had put on Liam’s name, pulling his glass of beer towards him across the table. “Thanks,” he says, “and thanks for the beer, whoever ordered it.”

“That would be me,” Niall announces, and he pushes the tray of shots to the middle of the table. “And these, too. It’s gonna be a good night, fellas.”

They each reach for a shot glass. Before they take them, though, Louis pipes up again. “I propose a toast!” he says. “To new friends.”

“To new friends!” Jordan agrees. The rest of the boys hum their approval and they shoot the vodka back. Definitely birthday cake shots. Fucking Niall.

“So tell us a bit about yourself, Jordan,” Louis goes on. Liam is going to kill him. “You can Google pretty much everything about us, I think.”

Liam doesn’t miss the smirk he shoots Harry next to him. Harry smiles into his glass of beer at the private joke. If only half the shit about them on Google was true.

“Not much to tell,” Jordan says, pushing his shot glass to the end of the table. “Born and raised in California. I went to UCLA and was a wide receiver. I’m up for the draft this April.”

Louis nods like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard. “That’s awesome. Are you excited?”

“Yeah, and nervous,” Jordan says. “But mostly excited. It’s what I’ve been working towards, you know?”

“Liam told us all about the game he and Harry saw a few weeks ago,” Niall says. “Did Mandy get the CD?”

“Oh yeah,” Jordan says, laughing. “Thanks for that. I’m pretty sure she hung the tote bag over her bed.”

The boys all laugh, even Liam. He stops laughing, though, when Jordan addresses him directly.

“I really wanted to thank you, Liam. It made her whole life I think.” He looks so sincere as he says it, smiling a small smile and blowing all of Liam’s plans to remain sane and impartial to hell.

“It was no trouble,” he croaks out. He licks his lips quickly, fidgety under Jordan’s relentless stare. He’s not sure but he thinks he sees Jordan’s eyes dart to his lips for a split second. Harry’s leg nudges his under the table.

“Well I’m going to go play pool,” Louis announces. He starts pushing at Harry and Liam to move so he can slide out of the booth. “Niall, you in?”

“Yup,” he agrees. “I think Harry wants to play too. Right Harry?”

“Yeah,” he says, sliding out from the booth and standing up. He starts grinning that wicked grin of his. The grin that Liam knows only ever brings bad things into his life. “Jordan, you’re more than welcome to join us, but Liam doesn’t really play.”

Harry is a fucking liar who lies, because Liam happens to be _excellent_ at pool and their attempts at being subtle are for shit. So much for a group date to take the pressure off. His friends are assholes.

“I’ll just hang here and keep Liam company,” Jordan says. “If that’s okay with you,” he tacks on for Liam’s benefit.

Harry looks like the cat that got the cream as he nudges Liam back down into the booth. “It’s sorted then. See you lads in a bit.”

Two seconds later and they’re gone. Two seconds and Liam feels like he’s going to throw up.

Without Louis and Niall’s mindless chatter in an attempt to make conversation, the table falls dead silent. Without Harry being a semi-steadying presence next to him, Liam feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin. Liam keeps his eyes on his beer glass as he draws designs on the condensation. Jordan doesn’t say anything either, and Liam begins to think that this whole fucking thing was the worst idea on the planet. Damn Harry and his attempts at matchmaking. Damn Louis and his goal to get Liam back in the dating scene. Damn Niall and his inability to turn down any opportunity to go to a bar.

“Liam?” he hears from across the table.

He looks up and Jordan is looking at him expectantly. He looks like he’s waiting for a response. He feels like such a tool. “Sorry, I just zoned out. What?”

Jordan laughs lightly and says, “I just asked you what your favorite song on your new album was.”

Oh. Music. The album. _Their_ new album. This is shop talk. Liam can do this. “Oh, uh,” he says, pausing. “I think Never Enough? Probably.”

“I like that one,” Jordan agrees.

Liam raises his eyebrows. “You’ve heard it?”

Jordan nods. “I listened to the whole album. Not that I had much of a choice. Mandy totally put it on repeat, just like she said she would.” Then he widens his eyes and stutters out, “Not that, you know, I wouldn’t have listened anyway. She just kind of beat me to it.”

Liam giggles and feels his cheeks begin to flush. He hopes it’s from the vodka. He knows it’s not. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“It’s really eclectic,” Jordan continues, “like, all the different genres. It’s really cool.”

“Thank you,” Liam says, rattling off his standard reply that he’s mastered over the last few weeks of relentless interviews asking the same questions. “We’re really proud of it.”

“I don’t want to step out of bounds here,” Jordan says, biting his lower lip. Like he’s nervous. “But I, uh, I think you guys sound better than ever. Better than when Zayn was… You know.”

Liam nods and looks down. Yeah. He knows.

“Like you’ve found your sound,” Jordan adds on. Liam sees out of the corner of his eye how he shakes his head at himself. “Fuck, I sound like an ass. I’m sorry. He was your bandmate and all.”

Jordan doesn’t even know the _half_ of it, doesn’t know a quarter of what Zayn leaving meant. But he knows what he means. It’s been said by dozens of other people. Thousands, even, if you count online comments. They sound better without Zayn. Liam has accepted that, but it’s still a tough thing to admit.

Liam shrugs. “He wasn’t happy,” he says, giving the party line. “The rest of us were on the same page. He wasn’t.”

Jordan nods. “I understand. Well, no, I don’t, but I… I kind of get what you mean. You were a team, and when there’s discord with someone on the team, it throws off the whole dynamic. Same as in football. You’ve gotta be with each other a hundred percent. If you’re not, you can’t be the best.”

Liam watches a series of expressions flit across Jordan’s face; self-deprecating shame at bringing up an obviously sore topic, then recognition when he thinks he gets what Liam is talking about, then some embarrassment at rambling. It’s adorable, really. Liam almost wants to make him squirm a bit if only to watch him blush more, but Liam doesn’t want him to feel bad for another second. So he goes, “That’s exactly it.”

“Yeah?” Jordan asks. “I know football and music aren’t the same thing, but…”

“No no,” Liam cuts in, “it’s similar enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Jordan says, “I shouldn’t have brought it up. But I just wanted you to know that I think you’re all really talented and this just seems like it made you even stronger. It’s a great album.”

Liam blushes under the praise. “Thank you.”

“It may or may not be the CD in my car as we speak.”

Liam searches Jordan’s face for any signs of betrayal, but there are none. “You’re kidding me.”

Jordan shakes his head and laughs. “It’s a secret.”

Liam feels a laugh bubble in the back of his throat. “I won’t blow your cover, I promise.”

“Your friends are really nice,” Jordan adds. “I’m glad you invited me out. I’d thought you’d forgotten.”

Liam feels his heart drop into his stomach. Fuck. So they’re going there, then.

“No, no,” he says, because he most certainly did _not_ forget. “We just kind of got…carried away with the album promo, and stuff. And we went back to London for a bit. And now we’re back.” He’s rambling. He sounds like an idiot. Abort. “But I definitely wanted to see you again.” _Fuck fuck fuck_. “I mean _we_. We. As in, me and Harry. And the other boys. They wanted to meet you.”

Smooth, Payno. Real fucking smooth.

Jordan smiles, teeth on display and seemingly thrilled with this news. “I wanted to meet them too. I’ve never met anybody famous before. Not like, on your level or anything.”

On your level.

Liam shakes his head. “We’re not that cool, I promise.”

“Your sold-out stadium tours would say otherwise,” Jordan adds, smirking and raising his eyebrows.

Fuck his heart in his stomach. Liam is pretty sure it’s stopped beating by this point. Because… Is he… Is this flirting?

“We owe it to the fans,” Liam replies. He sounds like a goddamn broken record every time he says that.

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t see you if they didn’t like you,” Jordan says, “so you’ve gotta be doing something right.”

“You should come to a show one day,” Liam blurts. If his heart’s still beating, now would be a good time to just kill him.

“I’d like that,” Jordan says, “but you’re not touring right away, right?”

Liam shakes his head. Right. The break. “No, we’re not touring right now. We’re taking a break.”

“I read about that,” Jordan says, nodding. “Good for you. Seems like you need it.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve been kind of going nonstop for five years. We all want some time to reflect.”

“Right,” Jordan says. He smiles at Liam genuinely. “I can’t wait to see what you guys do when you come back.”

When. Not if. When.

“I’ll let you know personally,” Liam says, smiling and feeling his cheeks burn under the attention. Too late he realizes what that implied.

“I’m really glad you invited me out,” Jordan says, completely apropos of nothing. He said that already.

“I’m really glad you came,” Liam replies.

“I think your friends are watching us,” Jordan adds. He jerks his head to the left in the direction of the pool table.

Liam slowly turns his head to see Louis, Harry, and Niall completely staring from their spot at the pool table. Louis is leaning on the cue and batting his eyelashes at him. Niall raises his beer glass in a salue. Harry winks. Liam is going to kill them all.

When he looks back at Jordan, he sees him trying to stifle a laugh. He rolls his eyes and says, “They’re kind of nosy.”

“I think they’re trying to set us up,” Jordan says.

Liam blinks once, twice, three times. “Uh. What?”

“I think they’re trying to set us up,” Jordan repeats.

Fuck. Not good. Not good at all.

“I’m sorry about them,” Liam rushes to say, “they keep trying to be my wingmen even though I’ve told them _repeatedly_ I don’t need any wingmen, I’m perfectly fine as I am and I’m sorry they dragged you into this.”

He might be mistaken, but he thinks he sees Jordan’s eyes dim a bit. “Oh, uh, are you seeing someone already?”

What?

“What? No!” Liam answers. “No, no, definitely not.”

“Are you…” Jordan begins, then seems to think better of it. “No, sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“What?” Liam asks.

Jordan lets out a sigh. “I was going to ask if you were gay.”

Oh.

Well.

“That’s…” Liam begins, “a complicated question.”

Jordan raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

Fuck, this was not a question he thought he’d ever have to have with Jordan, let alone on a first kind of date that was supposed to be a group date, damn it. “I don’t really know,” he admits, “I just kind of…do me?”

“But you like boys?” Jordan clarifies. “I mean, at least sometimes?”

“Yes,” Liam says, because this part he can answer. “I don’t have a label for it or anything. But the short answer is yes.”

“So it’s just me you’re not into, then?”

Liam sucks in a breath and prays that the floor opens up to swallow him whole. Jesus Christ, how did this turn into a deep soul-searching session. It was just supposed to be drinks. He’s going to remind Louis of that later before he smothers him with one of Harry’s organic cotton pillows.

“Wait, what?” Liam asks. “Why would you ask that?”

Jordan shrugs. “Just seemed like the idea of them setting you up with me was, like, really horrible to you.”

“What?” Liam says again. He’s pretty sure he’s exhausted the word by now.

“Just now, when I mentioned I thought they were setting us up. You just said you were sorry and you were perfectly fine.”

Liam shakes his head. “No, no, you misunderstood me,” he says. “I just meant that… They mean well, right, but sometimes they push a little too hard and I know they’re trying to help but when they do that it forces me out of my comfort zone and to be completely honest, I’m totally out of practice here. It’s been awhile since I’ve had to do this and if I’m honest the reason it took me so long to text you wasn’t because I forgot or because we were swamped with the album, even though we _were_ swamped. That just wasn’t the whole truth. The truth is that I was nervous to text you.”

Jordan is silent through Liam’s panicked explanation, and silent for a few seconds after. Then: “You were nervous?”

Liam nods. “You make me nervous.”

Silence again. Liam is never opening his mouth again. Jordan seems contemplative for a moment, like his brain is catching up with all of the shit Liam just threw at him. Liam is still doing mental gymnastics, his brain running through everything he’d said when he feels a touch on his hand.

Jordan’s hand.

When he looks up, Jordan is grinning at him. “You’re really cute when you’re nervous. Just so you know.”

Liam is definitely sure he’s dead. That’s the only reasonable explanation for how he’s sitting here, at the back of this bar, his best friends twenty feet away and grinning at him, and this guy who he didn’t even know _existed_ two months ago smiling at him with more affection than Liam knows what to do with.

“You think I’m cute?” he says, voice uneven.

“When you’re nervous,” Jordan says. “And the rest of the time, too.”

“Oh, uh,” Liam says, flushing. “Thank you.” Cute. Jordan thinks he’s cute. Louis is going to drag him so hard for this.

“You’re welcome.” Jordan leans back in the booth. He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles again. “So what do we do now?”

Liam laughs. “Well… I, uh… We’re still in LA for a few days.”

“Yeah…” Jordan says, voice trailing off. He looks expectantly at Liam.

“If you’re free, maybe we could go out? Just the two of us?”

Jordan’s face breaks into a wide smile, eyes lighting up. “Liam Payne, are you asking me on a date?”

Liam thinks back to just a few weeks ago, standing on the sidelines of that UCLA game. He thinks of feeling eyes on him only to look up and seeing Jordan looking at him. How that crazy twist of events led him here.

He thinks of the little spark of courage he’d built up to send that initial text. He thinks he can muster up a little bit more.

“Yes.”


	3. Part 3

Liam thinks texting might actually be the devil. That, or the fact that he still can’t spell worth a damn. Fortunately, Jordan thinks it’s cute - a fact that Louis has teased him relentlessly about since their failed group date.

It’s two days after their night at the bar and one day before Liam’s “hotly anticipated date with a soon-to-be NFL star.” Niall’s words, not Liam’s. Liam is back at Harry and Louis’ house, but it’s just him and Louis this time. Harry has business with Jeff and Niall had holed himself up in his flat with strict instructions to not wake him from his slumber unless Olive Garden announces it’s bringing back chocolate lasagna.

Liam and Louis have been engaged in an epic FIFA battle for the better part of an hour when Louis finally breaches the subject. “Are you nervous?”

Liam bites his lower lip, concentration no longer fully on the game. He thinks of dark eyes, dark skin, broad shoulders. “A bit.”

Louis nods, eyes still on the screen. “Can I be honest with you?” he asks. Uh oh.

Liam pauses the game with his controller and turns his body to look at Louis fully. “Why do I think I’m not going to like this?” he asks.

Louis looks a bit uncomfortable, which is rare when it’s just the two of them. He pulls on the drawstring of his hoodie with a finger, dropping his controller to the floor and turning his body fully to look at Liam. He crosses his legs and leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “It’s nothing bad,” he says, “but I think you’re not gonna be happy anyway.”

Liam runs a hand back through his hair and gulps. “Just say it, Lou.”

Louis takes a breath and says, “I kind of expected you’d never try to date a guy again after…” He trails off, but Liam can fill in the gaps.

“He’s not Voldemort, you can say his name,” Liam teases, a poor attempt to joke to ease the tightening in his chest.

“I don’t know about that,” Louis says bitterly. Then he widens his eyes and slaps Liam’s leg. “I can’t believe you made a fucking Harry Potter reference. You’re such a nerd.”

Liam laughs and gulps again. “Seriously, Louis, you don’t have to walk on eggshells. You can talk to me about Zayn.”

Louis blows out a stream of air and leans back against the plush arm of the sofa. “I’m not trying to dig up old shit. I know you two were…complicated.”

Complicated is the understatement of the fucking century, but Liam nods so Louis knows it’s okay to continue.

“I’m just… I’m really happy you’re exploring this part of yourself,” he adds. He leans forward again to place a hand on Liam’s knee. “I was kind of afraid that after Zayn didn’t work out, you’d just swear off the whole thing. I know it’s been hard for you. Harder than it was for me. Definitely harder than it was for Harry.”

Liam doesn’t argue. The road to this point in his life, where he can tell the people closest to him that he’s not straight and he can be confident in that, was fraught with no shortage of crippling doubt and internalized homophobia and second guessing his own brain. Watching Harry and Louis helped, to see how unashamed they are of who they are, how unashamed they’ve always been. But that’s not Liam’s story.

Liam just shrugs because he doesn’t have anything to say. He’s a little afraid he’ll start crying if he does try to say something, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Louis gets it though. Louis always gets it. “I’m proud of you,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “If Jordan is smart he’s going to keep you.”

Liam laughs and rolls his eyes. “It’s our first date. We might hate each other after tomorrow night.”

Louis laughs too but doesn’t take the bait. “You’ve got this,” he says. He pauses, then his eyes light up. “Wait! What are you going to wear?!”

So the next day, Liam might let Louis help dress him again. He’s like a kid in a candy store, throwing out suggestions of combinations of tops and jeans and shoes in a flurry of movement around Liam’s flat. By the time he leaves with a smacking kiss to Liam’s cheek, Liam has tried on no less than twelve outfits.

In the end, though, it was one of the first that had made Louis whistle and go, “Fuck, Payno, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”

Liam had looked down at the outfit and blushed. The black shirt Louis selected was silky and shiny. He’d insisted Liam keep the first three buttons undone. He’d also pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans that he said made Liam’s ass look incredible. Liam had worried that it wasn’t dressed up enough for dinner, but Louis brushed him off with a wave and, “With any luck you won’t be in these long enough to be worried about that.”

Liam had literally kicked him in the ass.

Now, though, it’s almost time for him to spruce up his hair and spritz on some cologne. He and Jordan had agreed it would be easier to meet at the restaurant since they were coming from opposite directions. Liam is pretty sure he’s used up about half of his can of hairspray getting his quiff to stay in place.

It’s as he’s walking out the door that he receives a text from Niall: “Don’t order anything with garlic.”

The advice is so _Niall_ that Liam barks a laugh as he heads out to the curb to the waiting car. It breaks the tension brewing in his chest for a moment, allowing him to breathe. He can do this. It’s going to be fine.

Of course, by the time the car pulls up to the restaurant twenty minutes later, Liam is convinced it’s not fine at all. He’s going to embarrass himself. He’s going to be awkward. He’s going to get verbal diarrhea and start talking about stuff he’d best leave unsaid. He’s going to spill food on himself. Jordan is going to think he’s a complete loser.

No time to panic, though, because Jordan is already sitting at a table at the back of the restaurant when Liam walks in the door. It’s a bit of a back alley place, not quite a dive but definitely not high on the list of most tourists to pop in. He’d rather avoid a grainy iPhone picture posted on Twitter exposing his location, thank you very much. Especially on a date with a guy since, you know, his sexuality is still kind of up in the air to some people.

Some of Liam’s nerves dissipate, though, when Jordan spots him walking over. A huge smile breaks across his face and he stands up. He pulls Liam into a hug right away, patting his back and saying, “Hey, Liam” into his ear.

“Hi,” Liam says, a grin overtaking his face as well. So Jordan is a hugger. Good to know. “Were you waiting long?”

“Nope,” Jordan says, releasing Liam from his hold and stepping back. He and Liam both sit at the same time, the candle in the middle of their table flickering with the little gusts of wind from their movement. “I waited to order drinks. I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“Oh, uh,” Liam says intelligently, peering up at their waitress who just appeared at their table and is smiling at him indulgently. “A Miller, please,” he says, “and a water as well.”

“I’ll have the same,” Jordan says. Once their waitress is out of earshot, he leans closer to Liam from across the table. “You look really nice.”

Liam might send Louis a fruit basket. “Thanks,” Liam says, blushing. He takes in Jordan’s own outfit: a tight-fitting white t-shirt under a blue plaid shirt, cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and dark wash jeans. Liam feels better that he isn’t underdressed. He’s also thankful for whatever higher power exists that made Jordan think it was a good idea to roll up his shirt sleeves because Liam is quite enjoying watching his muscles flex as he reaches across the table to pull a dinner roll from the basket.

“Traffic was murder,” Jordan goes on to say, breaking the roll in two. “I thought I was going to be late.”

“Well, I was a bit late,” Liam says, “so it would only have been fair.”

Jordan laughs. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good. Went for a run. Watched a bit of TV.” Panicked. Had my best friend pick out my outfit because I’m incompetent as an adult. Panicked some more. “Mostly just hung around, enjoying the time off.”

“How much longer does promo go for you?” Jordan asks, and he genuinely seems interested. His eyes are wide as he peers from across the table, breaking his roll up into little bite-size pieces.

“We’re not officially done until December,” Liam says, “but we’ve got time off here and there between events. Our big thing is The X Factor finale.”

Jordan nods, “And is that your last performance together or something?”

“Yeah, once we’re done that we have off for the holidays and all,” Liam says. “It’ll be good. My mum and dad are coming to live with me for a bit, I haven’t seen them much in the last few years.”

“That must be hard,” Jordan says. “I mean, I’ve been in the same state as my family for the last four years but I’ve missed them like crazy.”

“I do miss them,” Liam admits, “but the lads are my home away from home.”

“I always wondered if you guys got along as well as we were supposed to think. But it’s really awesome you do,” Jordan says. He pauses as their waitress returns with a drink tray, placing a bottle of beer and a glass of water in front of each of them.

“Are you ready to order?” she asks, pen poised over her notepad.

Fuck, Liam’s barely browsed the menu. He thinks fast to the burgers he’d skimmed when he first opened it up.

“I’ll have the cowboy burger, please,” Jordan says, “medium well.”

Liam allows himself a grin at that and tries not to let the word “compatible” float around his brain too much.

“I’ll have the same,” he says, “but could I substitute the French fries for onion rings?”

“Certainly,” she says as she takes the laminated menus from them. “I’ll put that in right away.”

Jordan grins at him as she hurries off. “I didn’t take you for a cowboy burger kind of guy.”

Liam giggles, much to his horror, but he plows on to reply, “I can do the green smoothie thing, too. But I used to box and I got used to eating a lot of protein. Pretty sure that this burger is mostly fat, but the sentiment still applies.”

“You used to box?” Jordan asks, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, “when I was at school.”

“How come?”

Liam hesitates, not entirely sure how willing he is to go into his sad past on the first date. He doesn’t want to talk about how much of a loser he felt like then. So, he settles on a half-truth, hoping Jordan can fill in the blanks himself. “I wasn’t exactly popular at school.”

Across the table, Jordan bites his lower lip. He seems sad. Liam hates that he did that, that he dampened the mood, but before he can try to salvage it, Jordan says, “I had a few assholes at school myself.”

Liam feels his chest tighten at that. “Are you saying you were…?”

“Bullied?” Jordan finishes. He laughs a little laugh, but it’s humorless. “When I was in elementary school. I was scrawny and quiet. Then I got a little older, got into football, grew about a foot and a half, and started realizing when someone shoved me I could shove back.”

“Yeah I… I liked that boxing made me feel… I don’t know. Safer, I guess?” Liam says. “Like I could protect myself.”

Jordan nods in agreement. “Exactly,” he replies. “I mean, it didn’t help they used to suspect I was gay, right up until I started playing football. Then I guess they figured I was too tough to be gay or something.”

“So no one knew?” Liam asks. He doesn’t want to pry but this has been eating at him a bit. Being gay and playing football don’t seem to really go together, and if Jordan hopes to play professionally, what does that mean for him?

“My family knew. My best friend knew,” Jordan answers, “but I pretty much kept that on the DL.”

“What about now? Did your teammates know?”

“Some of them. But it’s complicated, you know?”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees. He’s sort of sorry he asked. This topic seems a bit heavy for the first date.

“I’ve decided I’m not going to come out until after I get drafted,” Jordan goes on. The intense look he’s giving Liam makes him think Jordan could tell all the questions he didn’t ask. “After what happened to Michael Sam, I just… I want the chance to prove myself before anyone starts passing judgment. I feel like he never really got that opportunity.”

“I know. I agree.”

“And if I do go pro, then I want to be a good role model,” Jordan goes on. “Maybe in ten years a new kid will come up and get to be out from the beginning, and maybe some of that will be because I proved you can play and be gay at the same time.”

“That’s really brave,” Liam says. “I don’t know if I could be that brave.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Jordan chides. “But can I ask you something? If it’s too nosy you can tell me to fuck off.”

Liam laughs. “Go ahead.”

“Harry said he had a boyfriend,” Jordan begins.

“Right…” Liam says, not sure where this is headed.

“Is it Louis?”

Liam chuckles. “They’re not too subtle, are they?”

“No,” Jordan agrees, “they’re really not. I was a bit surprised, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“They seem to be pretty open about it but you never hear it talked about.”

Oh, Jordan doesn’t even know the half of it. “They’re very open about it in private,” Liam confirms, “but our circumstances over the last five years have made it difficult for them to be completely open.”

“They seem to really love each other.”

Liam smiles, affection blooming in his heart for his friends. “They do. They actually helped me come to terms with the fact that I’m not straight,” Liam says. “Harry is an excellent listener. And Louis is an excellent talker.”

“I hope they get to be out completely soon,” Jordan says. “And I’m not going to, you know, tell anyone.”

“I know,” Liam says, because he does. He’d never have gotten this far if he thought that was a possibility. And Louis is a great judge of character, can spot dishonesty from a mile off. He’d have told Liam straight away.

“Do you think you’ll come out? Like, publicly?” Jordan asks.

Liam shrugs. He’s thought about it. “Dunno. I guess I’ve been able to coast without having to because I’ve really only ever dated girls. And then there was this one thing but… That ended. Maybe I will. If the timing was right.”

“You don’t owe anybody that, you know,” Jordan says. Liam is a bit surprised by how serious he looks. “I hope you don’t think you’re obligated to tell anyone.”

Liam doesn’t tell him that sometimes he thinks he is. Sometimes he feels like he’s lying by omission, even though the people closest to him know. He’s not hiding, doesn’t feel ashamed about who he is. Not anymore. But could he be doing more?

“Go at your own pace,” Jordan adds on. Harry and Louis have told him that a bunch of times. It’s actually a bit comforting to hear it from someone else.

“I am,” Liam says.

The mood is heavy but not unpleasant as their waitress reappears with their food. Once she’s gone, Jordan shakes his head and says, “Enough with the heavy stuff. Tell me your favorite place you’ve toured.”

Liam thinks for a moment, reaching for the ketchup bottle in the middle of the table just as Jordan does. Their fingers brush, both snatching their hands back and blushing.

“Go ahead,” Jordan offers.

Liam smiles in thanks and takes the bottle. “Um, I loved South America,” he says, “And Dusseldorf. I loved Dusseldorf. Melbourne too.”

“Did you get to do any touristy stuff?”

“Depends on the city and how long we were there for,” Liam says, handing the bottle to Jordan. “It can be tough in cities we’ve never been in before because of crowd control.”

“That sucks,” Jordan says. The ketchup bottle makes an awful squirting noise as he squeezes it over his fries. They both burst into giggles over it, Jordan rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Well that was attractive.”

Liam laughs more, shaking his head. “Bit forward for the first date.”

“You’re right, that was definitely second date material. Maybe third.”

“We’ll just have to try harder for next time,” Liam says. He freezes when he realizes what he just said. Good on him for assuming there will be a next time, Jesus.

Jordan, though, lights up almost instantly. “Next time there will be no ketchup bottles involved, Liam,” he says seriously. “At least not the squeeze kind.”

And just like that, Liam secures himself a second date.

After that, the conversation flows to lighter topics. Liam tells Jordan about his family. Jordan tells Liam about growing up in California and life at UCLA. He tells Liam that Mandy cried when she saw them perform 18 live. Liam tells Jordan about the time he and Louis flooded an ice rink.

They end up splitting the bill. Liam tries to foot it himself but Jordan snatches it up before Liam can take the paper from where the waitress placed it face down on the table. He’s pretty sure Jordan tells him a smaller amount than he should, since they shared a slice of chocolate mousse cake, but since he can’t prove it he just hands over some money and tries not to feel guilty.

On the way out the door, Liam holds it open for Jordan to pass through. If he stops breathing as Jordan’s fingers brush his stomach as he walks past Liam, no one has to know. And if, after he walks Jordan to his car and Jordan pulls him in by the back of the neck to give him a chaste kiss on the lips, his stomach does a few somersaults, no one has to know that either.

(Except Louis. Louis will die when he finds out.)


	4. Part 4

Liam is just really happy.

The day after his date with Jordan, Liam is only partially surprised when Niall shows up at his doorstep just after noon with bags of Chinese food and a case of beer.

“We’re gonna get drunk and you’re gonna tell me about your date,” he’d said by way of greeting. “Budge over, these bags are heavy.”

“Niall, it’s 12 o'clock in the afternoon,” Liam had said, moving to the side to let Niall in.”

“So?” Niall asked. “We’re celebrating you getting a boyfriend.”

Liam couldn’t find it in him to argue so now he finds himself on his sofa, three egg rolls and half a container of chicken fried rice demolished, with Niall laying at the other end of his sofa cracking open every fortune cookie to pick the ones he likes best.

“These are such bullshit,” Niall comments, taking a bite of a cookie. “Dunno why people bother reading them.”

Liam smirks and doesn’t comment on the piles of little slips of paper covering his coffee table, or the crumbs that are all that remain from the cookies.

“So me all about your date, Payno,” Niall says, leaving back against the arm of the sofa and cradling his beer bottle to his chest.

Liam got one text from Jordan early that morning, around 7 so Liam figures he was about to go to training: a simple “Good morning!” with a smiley emoji but it was enough to have Liam smiling the whole way through his own run and even after as he had a bowl of cereal. After that, Jordan had texted at a little after 11 asking if Liam was busy the following afternoon. He’d texted Louis, as they had plans to have a brainstorming session. Louis had told him to take advantage of the time they still had in LA and cancelled their plans without a second thought.

“It went well,” Liam answers, leaning back against the arm of the sofa on his side and rubbing his stomach. “We talked a lot. He told me about coming out and playing football and his plans.”

“Is he gonna come out, then?” Niall asks, a hint of surprise on his face.

“Not right away,” Liam says. “It depends on how the draft goes.”

Niall hums and closes his eyes. “I guess that could be tricky.”

“Yeah,” Liam agrees. “But he told me about growing up in California and I told him some stuff. About my family and you guys. It was nice. We had a lot to talk about.”

Niall opens his eyes and smiles at him. “I’m really happy for you, mate,” he says, eyes warm and mischievous. “You deserve a hot football player boyfriend.”

“You’re unlike any straight guy I’ve ever met,” Liam says, laughing and kicking at Niall’s leg.

Niall scoffs. “I’ll have you know, Liam, that I could have any guy I wanted.”

Liam nods seriously, his face the picture of mock agreement. “Of course you could.”

“But I suppose someone has to counter the amount of dick sucking happening in this group,” he sighs wistfully. “It’s a tough job, but someone has got to do it.”

Liam chuckles and sits up. He climbs across the sofa and collapses on top of Niall, pinning him to the cushions beneath and almost making him spill his beer.

“Oi!” he shouts, wiggling underneath Liam’s bear hug. “Get off me you big lug!”

Liam just shakes his head and buries his face into Niall’s neck. “I love you, Nialler.”

“Yeah yeah,” Niall groans, patting Liam’s back indulgently. “Love you too, idiot.” He plants a kiss on the top of Liam’s head, anyway.

—

Liam doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’s flying back to London in less than 48 hours. He just wants to think about how nice it is to be curled up next to Jordan in the bed of his truck, blankets strewn beneath them as they gaze up at the clouds.

Jordan had packed an honest-to-God picnic for them. Liam tried not to giggle too much when Jordan pulled up in front of his building, grinning like a little kid and refusing to tell Liam what he had planned. Liam hadn’t known what was coming until Jordan pulled off the freeway and started winding down some back roads, away from the city and into the hills.

He’d eventually pulled into a mini field (mini because Liam isn’t quite sure it could be considered a field by normal measurements), grass and a few scattered trees the only thing visible for a couple of miles. The whir of cars on the other end ruined the illusion a little bit, but Liam forgot all about it when he hopped out of the truck and Jordan led him around to the back.

He must have grabbed every single blanket he owned and laid it out in the bed of the truck. Sitting on top were a couple pillows and an actual wicker basket. Liam had no clue where he’d even managed to find one. Is it possible 22 year old guys just have those sitting around? He hadn’t thought too long about it, though, because he couldn’t help but laugh and whirl around to wrap Jordan in a hug.

“This is just like a movie,” he’d said, delighted.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jordan replied, and then he and Liam had climbed up into the bed.

After gorging on sandwiches, crisps, and an ale Liam had never had before that tasted exactly like root beer, they’d laid out on the blankets to gaze up at the clouds.

Liam blames Louis for the amount of clouds he sees that are phallic-shaped, but he keeps those to himself.

Jordan points overhead and says, “Look to the right. That one looks like a duck.”

“A bit,” Liam agrees, “but its beak is all wonky.”

“Goose maybe?”

“It’s moving now, though,” Liam says, “now it looks like a snake.”

“And that one over there, to the left. It looks like a slice of pizza.”

“I see it,” Liam says.

“That one all the way over there looks like a car,” Jordan says.

“Where?”

“All the way to the left,” Jordan explains, “you have to tilt your head a bit.

“I still can’t see it,” Liam huffs, “it just looks like a blob.”

Before he’s quite sure what’s happening, he feels a hand run over the back of his own. Jordan grabs hold of his wrist and lifts it into the air, pointing his arm all the way to the left.

“Right there,” he says, softer than before. “Right next to that chemtrail.”

“I, uh,” Liam stutters, breath catching as he feels Jordan lace his fingers through his own, “I still don’t see it.”

“It’s okay,” Jordan whispers in his ear. “It’s gone now anyway.”

Liam thinks he stops breathing as Jordan starts to turn on his side, their hands still tied together, to face Liam. Liam doesn’t roll to face him, just turns his head so their faces are inches apart. He feels his cheeks flush as Jordan smiles at him, open and affectionate and all for him.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you again?” he asks, voice low and scratchy, like he doesn’t want to disturb the quiet that’s settled around them by talking too loud.

Liam doesn’t, can’t, talk, so he nods - slowly at first, then quickly as Jordan’s smile grows. Slowly, Jordan leans forward to close the space between them. It’s a pretty warm day for November, the air hot between them as he gets closer and closer. Liam barely has time to shut his eyes before he feels Jordan’s lips press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Jordan pecks his way across Liam’s lips with light, barely-there kisses, finally fitting their lips together with a warm pressure that makes Liam’s head go fuzzy and his heart beat just a little bit quicker.

Jordan doesn’t push for more, seemingly content to just lay there together and kiss each other sweetly. Liam hears a few birds in a tree a few yards off, and a little bit of wind rustles his hair and the blankets around them. He doesn’t open his eyes, happy to just feel everything happen to him. He doesn’t need to see it to know Jordan is smiling into the kisses, just like he is. Happy. Comfortable.

When Jordan pulls back, Liam blinks his eyes open. His breath catches in his throat as he makes eye contact with Jordan, dark eyes peering back at him warmly. He can’t help but smile and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jordan whispers back.

“I really like doing that,” Liam says, flushing. He rolls over so he can fully face Jordan. He buries his forehead into the blankets and chuckles. “A lot.”

“Me too,” Jordan agrees. “A lot.”

“I want to keep doing it.”

“Me too.”

So they do. Jordan drops Liam’s hand to wrap it around Liam’s neck, blunt nails digging into the skin at the nape of his neck and scratching the baby hairs starting to grow in. He pulls Liam into another kiss, breath hot and urgent as he keeps their mouths locked together.

Liam doesn’t want to give this up, doesn’t want to lose this feeling he has. This easy, happy, comfortable feeling - like he’s known Jordan forever, not just a few weeks. Like they were meant to fit together.

He doesn’t know how to breach the subject, though. It’s only the second date and he’s already thinking of trying to talk exclusivity. Maybe that’s not what Jordan wants, though, especially with a guy who’s moving back to England on a semi-permanent basis. Not that Liam couldn’t split his time between London and LA easily. He just needs to have a reason to. Jordan could be that reason, but he has to make that call.

So Liam keeps kissing Jordan until Jordan pulls back again, eyes still shut and a smile playing on his lips. He presses their foreheads together and lets out a heavy breath. “I can hear you thinking, Liam,” he mutters.

“It’s nothing,” Liam replies. He opens his eyes and tries to lean back in for a kiss but Jordan pulls back just enough to stop it.

“Tell me,” Jordan insists, finally opening his eyes. He blinks blearily, eyes a little glassy.

Liam shakes his head minutely. “Don’t wanna ruin the moment.”

“Tell me,” Jordan says again. “I won’t kiss you again until you do.”

Liam huffs. “I was just thinking,” he begins, shutting his eyes again, “about what will happen when I go back to London.”

Jordan is silent for a moment, fingers still rubbing the back of Liam’s neck soothingly, fingers scraping the skin lightly. Then, slowly, carefully, he asks, “What do you want to happen?”

Liam shrugs. “I like this,” he admits. He opens his eyes so he can look at Jordan directly as he says, “I like you.”

Jordan smiles. “I like you, too.”

“I don’t want to stop this,” Liam continues, “but I don’t know how it’ll work. I can’t be in LA all the time, and I’d like to be here as much as possible, but I think we both know that that won’t be easy.”

Jordan nods. “I understand.”

“And I understand if you think it’s too complicated,” Liam goes on, “because it’s a lot to ask with this being so…new. I mean, we haven’t even talked about if we want this to be a thing-”

“I want this to be a thing,” Jordan cuts in. He smiles when Liam looks a bit taken aback, surprise written all over his face. “Why is that so surprising?”

Liam buries his face back into the blankets, voice barely audible as he says, “I’m just not used to it, is all.”

Jordan keeps up his assault of Liam’s neck, fingers pressing into his skin and releasing some of the tension Liam can feel building up. “You had a life before me,” Jordan says. “A busy one. You’re gonna keep being busy. You’re in fucking _One Direction_. I know you don’t have tons of time. But if you want it, I’d like for you to make some time for me.”

Liam turns his head and says, as sincerely as he can muster with his voice shaky and heart pounding in his chest, “I’ll make the most time for you.”

Jordan smiles, as if that’s all he needs to hear. “That settles it, then. We’ll make it work.”

Liam can’t help but smile back. Somehow, lying in a bed of blankets in Jordan’s truck, cool breeze blowing overhead, the sound of a horn from the freeway blowing in the distance, Liam is sure that they will.

—

Liam has never been in a long-distance relationship like this before, and it shows.

Louis keeps telling him he’s insufferable, checking his phone every ten minutes for new texts from Jordan the first full week they’re back in London. As if he’s one to talk. He’s practically glued to his phone when he and Harry aren’t together.

Harry is a bit more sympathetic. They’re in the dressing room at The X Factor finale, just under an hour before they’re set to perform. He and Liam are sitting on a sofa together, just the two of them, Niall and Louis off in search of a food table they’d heard had chocolate chip cookies. Harry just keeps a hand on Liam’s knee as they sit together in comfortable silence, Harry scrolling through Twitter and Liam staring at the wall, altogether a bit out of it.

“How are you doing, Li?” Harry eventually asks, eyes never leaving his phone screen but Liam can tell he’s paying close attention by the subtle increase of pressure on his knee.

“Fine,” he says, monotone and dry.

“And how is Jordan?” Harry asks.

“I talked to him this morning,” Liam answers. “He was good. Said he’d be waiting to watch the videos of the performance when they get posted.”

“Tumblr should have it up quickly enough,” Harry jokes, “just tell him to go wait on there.”

Liam laughs. “I’m not sure he’s ready for Tumblr yet.”

Harry chuckles and locks his phone, finally turning to look at Liam face-to-face. “You miss him kind of a lot, huh?”

Liam nods. “Kind of a lot, yeah,” he agrees.

“I’m really happy you’re giving this a go, though,” Harry tells him. “You’re happy. I can tell.”

“I am happy,” Liam says. “Very happy.”

“I know how it is to miss somebody,” Harry says. Liam freezes. They don’t talk about this much, what being apart from Louis feels like for Harry. It’s never been a topic they breach too much, just little passing comments here and there. When Harry had come to them with If I Could Fly, Liam felt like he understood it fully for the first time. He knows that he and Jordan aren’t anywhere near the level Harry and Louis are, but it feels important that Harry is talking about this with him.

“Yeah,” Liam says softly, letting Harry know it’s okay to keep going.

“Don’t feel bad about feeling too much, okay?” Harry tells him. “I know you. Don’t overthink it.”

Liam just shrugs, feeling his cheeks pinken. “Is it bad I want to fly back to LA tonight?”

Harry shakes his head. “No.”

“You don’t think I’m being ridiculous?”

Harry fixes him with a look, and Liam knows he’s about to get a lecture. “I literally moved in with Louis when I was sixteen, Liam,” he says, unimpressed. “If you’re feeling it, listen to it. Trying to stamp it down doesn’t help.”

“I just worry that maybe we’re going too fast,” Liam says, “or that we’re not on the same page. It’s not as easy as just saying we’ll make it work.”

“No, it isn’t,” Harry agrees. “I know you two are new and everything, but it’s important you decide if this is something you want.”

“I want to at least try,” Liam says, looking down at his lap where his phone is lying motionless, “and if that means I fly back to LA on a red eye then that means I fly back to LA on a red eye.”

When Liam looks up again, it’s to see Harry looking at him with a fond smile. It’s a lighter version of the creepy grin he always look at Louis with, the one that used to confuse him so much when they first got together because yeah, Louis is cool but he’s not _that_ cool.

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry says, “and if I already said that, I’m going to say that again.”

“I’m not actually going to get on a red eye, Harry,” Liam adds.

Harry shakes his head. “I know that,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got a ticket booked for early next week.” Of course Harry knows that. “I just mean with everything.”

“Oh,” Liam says, blushing. “Thank you.”

“Our little Lima Bean is all grown up,” Harry teases, bumping their shoulders together.

“You’re not funny,” Liam mutters, acting put-upon but he knows Harry knows it’s just an act.

Harry laughs. “I’m still proud of you. Nothing you can do to change that.”

Liam allows Harry to wrap his arm around him, pulling their sides together snugly, and they fall back into a comfortable silence again. It’s short-lived, though, as soon after Louis and Niall come bursting back into the dressing room, chocolate chip cookies stuffed into both of their hands.

The quiet is broken by Louis’ yells to Harry that he thinks someone put crack in these and he needs Harry to tell him what’s different about them so Harry can make them at home. Then Niall gets a phone call from his mum, so his loud laugh echoes in the corner of the room as he chats with her. Harry and Louis burst into a fit of giggles when the leg of Harry’s trousers gets caught on the corner of a chair and he nearly falls over. It’s different than the quiet, Liam muses to himself, but it’s still good. He’s with his boys. And even though he still misses Jordan, he’ll never feel better than when he’s with his best friends.

He takes a breath and stands, prepared to join in with the madness when he feels his phone vibrate. He unlocks it to see a text from Jordan.

“Break a leg! You’ll do amazing. I’ll be watching!”

Walking out on stage is a little bit easier that night.

—

Jet lag can suck Liam’s dick, for all he cares. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s flown from continent to continent. If he didn’t love his job so much, he’s not sure the time his body spends trying to readjust would be worth it.

It’s almost midnight. He had flown into LA earlier that afternoon and promptly collapsed on the sofa in his living room as soon as he made it through the door. He doesn’t think he has any food in the house, either, as he stumbles his way into the kitchen. Which means he’s going to have to go out. Fuck.

Just then, he hears a knock on his door. The first thing he does is have a moment of panic. None of the other boys are in LA, and he can’t think of who else would be knocking on his door. Maybe an ax murderer. Maybe Liam is a bit dramatic.

He lets out a long, relieved, blissful breath when he looks through the peephole in his door. He doesn’t waste any time in throwing open the door.

Jordan is standing on his welcome mat, a bag from In-N-Out in his hand and a happy smile on his face. “Hi, honey. You’re home.”

Liam rolls his eyes and yanks Jordan into his flat by the sleeve of his jacket. “Get in here,” he says, wrapping his arms around Jordan’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. Jordan kicks the door shut behind him with his foot.

“Why are you here?” Liam asks into Jordan’s neck. “How are you here?”

“Figured you’d crash when you got here,” Jordan answers, his own arms around Liam’s waist as he holds him close. “I wanted to give you some time to relax before I showed up.”

Liam shakes his head and pulls back. “You’re really kind of wonderful.”

Jordan laughs and averts his eyes. “I think the jet lag is making you loopy.”

“A bit,” Liam admits. “Cuddle me on the couch?”

“You’re a cuddler, then?” Jordan asks, letting himself be led over to the sofa. “Good. Me too.”

“Good thing we fit,” Liam says, sitting down and moving back to make room for Jordan.

Jordan drops the food on the coffee table and sits back. He leans back against the arm and gestures for Liam to come forward. Liam settles himself between Jordan’s legs, his back to Jordan’s chest, as Jordan wraps his arms around him. Liam can’t help but feel amazed at how easy this is, at how right it feels. It shouldn’t be this easy so soon. But it is.

It’s quiet for a few minutes as they settle together, Jordan rubbing little circles into Liam’s stomach. Eventually, Jordan whispers in Liam’s ear, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Liam says, shutting his eyes and relaxing into Jordan’s hold. “It’s been too long.”

“And how long are you here for?”

“Just over a week,” Liam says. “I go back home for Christmas.”

Jordan hums. “Okay. Do you… I mean, do you have time to hang out?” He sounds a bit nervous, as if Liam didn’t fly all the way to California for the sole purpose of spending every spare moment he has with him. Not that Liam had explicitly _told_ him that’s why he was coming back to LA. For all Jordan knows, he could have work to do.

Liam’s blinks his eyes open, his heart rate speeding up. He tugs on Jordan’s hands until he loosens them and Liam can turn around to look at him. Jordan looks confused for a moment until Liam leans in and kisses him, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to keep them steady.

When they pull apart, Liam whispers back, “All the time in the world.”

The smile that takes over Jordan’s face, Liam decides, is worth the jet lag. Because Jordan is worth a lot.

“I’m glad we’re a thing,” Jordan tells him. “We’re the best thing.”

Liam nods. “The best thing,” he confirms. “After that In-N-Out you brought me.”

Jordan laughs a full-body laugh at that, eyes bright and affectionate as he gently pushes Liam off of him. “Come on. Let’s eat so I can cuddle you some more.”

It isn’t until later, until Jordan is gently snoring on the other end of his sofa, that Liam notices he has three missed text messages.

From Niall: “I still think it’s too early in the relationship for garlic.”

From Louis: “Don’t forget there’s a 24 hour pharmacy down the block in case you forgot condoms.”

From Harry: “You should tell Jordan you actually kick ass at pool.”

Liam laughs at all three. Later, he thinks.

After all, he has all the time in the world.


	5. timestamp: december 31, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to tackle the New Year's Eve timestamp request I received a few times. I hope you enjoy it!

“So this is it,” Jordan says, stepping further into the flat and gesturing with his hand.

Liam looks around the entryway with wide eyes and a large grin. “I never knew university accommodations could be so...accommodating.”

Jordan and laughs and holds a hand out for Liam to take, tugging him further into the flat. Liam lets himself be tugged, smiling as Jordan pulls him to stand in front of him and leans up to give him a kiss. He’s warm all over, happy to be with Jordan and grateful for the next week they have together.

“I only _found_ it through UCLA,” Jordan explains, “it’s not campus housing. There’s a difference.”

Liam laughs and shrugs. Still, for a one-bedroom apartment in LA for a twenty two year old, Jordan isn’t doing too bad for himself.

“Want to see the rest of it?” Jordan asks, leaning in and kissing Liam once more before stepping back. He doesn’t let go of Liam’s hand.

“Of course,” Liam replies, and Jordan pulls him further into the flat.

It’s mostly an open floor plan, with doors only disconnecting Jordan’s bedroom and bathroom from the rest of the space. He’s got a couch and an armchair in front of a large HD TV and his kitchen is separated from the living room by a long island. There are trainers and hoodies strewn over almost every available flat surface, and it looks every bit like the apartment of a recent college graduate.

Eventually Jordan pulls Liam to the couch and the settle in next to each other, leaning against opposite arms of the couch and legs tangled together. Jordan kicks at Liam’s legs playfully and smiles. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. Also New Year’s Eve. Also the night where Liam is officially going to get introduced to a whole group of Jordan’s friends at what Jordan has promised is a legitimately small get-together (not a teen movie version of a small get-together that turns into a huge rave).

Liam is nervous, he’s not even going to lie. He had to make the choice, though, between staying home with his parents or making the trip back to LA to spend the time with Jordan. His parents are coming to live with him soon and he won't be making it back to LA right away. This week is important.

“I'm ready,” Liam says, and even to his own ears it sounds ridiculous.

Jordan grins and kicks at Liam's leg. “How do you really feel?”

“I'm nervous as fuck,” Liam admits, giggling on a long breath. “They're your friends. It's a big deal.”

Jordan just rolls his eyes. “Please,” he says. “I had to meet One Direction. You can handle some college kids.”

“You’d be surprised,” Liam counters, but he laughs again when Jordan's foot nudges at his calf. “I just don't want them to think I'm a knob.”

“They're not going think you're a...knob? Whatever that is.”

“They might,” Liam says. “I am in a boy band.”

“Listen,” Jordan says, “Mandy will be there and she won't let anyone say a bad word about you. She might even try to steal you away from me actually. You've got nothing to worry about.”

Liam laughs. “Okay fine, but I won't hesitate to say I told you so if this goes badly.”

“Deal.”

“So what is the plan for the rest of the day?” Liam asks, looking out the window of the living room at the setting sun.

“I thought we could take a nap,” Jordan suggests, sitting up from his spot at the other end of the couch and crawling to Liam. “And get takeout later.”

Liam nods. “Okay.”

“But first,” Jordan continues, arms on either side of Liam, holding him in position to hover, “we have a few weeks of kissing to make up for, don't we?”

Liam smiles. “We do.” Then he pulls Jordan in.

\---

The next morning, Liam wakes to warm lips pressing all over his face. Warm breath tickles his cheeks and he grins, keeping his eyes closed as Jordan leaves little pecks over his forehead, eyelids, cheeks, chin, lips. Liam blinks his eyes open blearily to see Jordan hovering half over him, a sleepy smile on his face and eyes glazed.

“Morning,” he says, leaning in to press another kiss to Liam's closed lips.

“Morning,” Liam says back, shutting his eyes once more as Jordan trails a series of soft kisses down his chin and jaw. “Time is it?”

“Just after ten,” Jordan answers, pulling his lips away from Liam's skin. “Are you hungry?”

“A bit,” Liam replies.

“Well our options are Lucky Charms, Frosted Mini Wheats, or putting on clothes and going to the cafe down the street.”

Liam laughs and opens his eyes. “Tough call.”

“I know. I kind of want a muffin, but I also don't want you to put on a shirt.”

Liam rolls his eyes and punches lightly at Jordan's equally bare shoulder. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Hmmm,” Jordan hums, scooting further down the bed and pulling the blanket with him. He rubs a hand over Liam's pecs, fingers running through the hair on his chest. “I think you're doing the world a disservice by putting on clothes to be honest, but that cafe has amazing chocolate chip muffins. So you can see my struggle here.”

Liam giggles and catches Jordan's hand as it makes another pass over his skin. “Truly one for the history books.”

“If Benjamin Franklin saw your muscles, I think he'd agree.”

Liam can't quite remember who Benjamin Franklin is right now, but he blames it on Jordan starting to kiss the sensitive skin around his right nipple. He can feel his body start to respond, his chest beginning to flush and all the blood in his body starting to rush south. When Jordan switches to his left nipple, Liam can feel himself starting to get hard. And he and Jordan haven't gotten to that point yet.

Reluctantly, Liam runs a hand through Jordan's hair and tugs until he starts to relent. He pulls Jordan into a kiss, no heat behind it, smiling as Jordan comes easily.

“Let's go get you a chocolate chip muffin,” Liam finally suggests.

Jordan pouts but lets Liam push him off gently. Liam is sad to leave Jordan's bed. His blue and black comforter is really soft and warm, made better by Jordan's body heat, and Liam is honestly considering asking where he bought it. But right now, there are more pressing matters at hand.

Liam ignores the little bit of discomfort he feels as he tugs a pair of jeans over his boxers, his dick still half-hard. He could technically do something about it, but he thinks he and Jordan should maybe...talk.

Jordan heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth and Liam finishes dressing, selecting a red henley from his bag and pulling it over his head. Yes he and Jordan should definitely talk about this. He doesn't want Jordan to think he doesn't want him or something. But communication doesn't come naturally to him, and he'd rather not have that discussion over breakfast.

Unfortunately for him, Jordan never got that memo.

He and Jordan have just sat down at a table in the cafe down the street from Jordan's apartment. Jordan had in fact gotten his chocolate chip muffin as well as an iced coffee and breakfast sandwich. Fuck his fast metabolism.

Liam's own tea sits innocently on the table, but his cinnamon raisin bagel betrays him. He's just taken a bite when Jordan, apropos of nothing, asks, “Why did you stop me earlier?”

Jordan's eyes widen in alarm as Liam frantically sucks in air, his small bite of bagel dislodging from his throat. His eyes are watery and burn, and he's drawn a few looks from other patrons. More than anything, though, he wasn't prepared for this conversation.

“Huh?” he asks, grabbing the water bottle he'd grabbed from Jordan's place before they left.

Jordan waits for Liam to take a swallow of water before continuing. He breaks a piece of muffin off and pops it into his mouth. “Earlier in bed… It felt like you were into it, but then… Did I do something wrong?”

Liam feels like an asshole. “No.”

“If you were uncomfortable or something-”

“No no,” Liam cuts him off, shaking his head. “I liked it. I promise. But I just…” He huffs, hating how he can't seem to verbalize what he's trying to say. “I thought we should talk first.”

Jordan leans back in his chair and fixes Liam with a contemplative look. “Okay. Shoot.”

Fuck, Liam didn't think he'd have to steer the conversation. He was hoping Jordan would take the lead on this.

“It's just we're still pretty new,” Liam begins, ducking his head and resolutely avoiding Jordan's gaze. “And I think we should talk...limits? Like, the pace we want to go at. What we're okay with.”

Silence. Liam takes his knife and cuts a piece of bagel off, biting into it and chewing it slowly. He feels his cheeks redden as he waits for Jordan's reply.

“Can you look at me, Li?” Jordan finally asks.

When Liam looks up, Jordan is smiling at him.

“You're very adorable,” he says, find smile pulling at his lips. “Okay, well. To answer the unasked question, I'm not a virgin. I've been with three other guys, and I know what I'm comfortable with. I'll tell you if I don't like something, and I want you to do the same.”

Liam nods. “Okay. I can do that.”

“As for the pace… I say we just, figure it out as we go? If we're going too fast for you, then tell me. But I think we can, you know, work our way through it.”

Liam blushes. “Okay,” he agrees.

“Now,” Jordan goes on, “the next time your brain starts going in overdrive, can you tell me, please? I can’t read your mind.”

“Pretty close,” Liam argues, grinning. “You seem to know when my brain is going in overdrive.”

“Only cause you get this look,” Jordan replies, giggling. “Like not quite panicked but you’re so tense you could probably break a wooden slab.”

“I do not!” Liam protests.

“You really do,” Jordan smirks, setting aside the rest of his muffin and pushing it across the table to Liam. “You stress _me_ out when you do that.”

Liam huffs and takes the rest of the offered muffin. “You’re not cute.”

“Yes I am,” Jordan counters, “you think I’m very cute.”

“Nope,” Liam says, popping a bite of muffin into his mouth.

Jordan giggles again and starts digging into his sandwich. “What do you want to do after this? We don’t need to be at Ricky’s until nine.”

Liam shrugs. “I’m cool with just hanging out at your place, unless you had another idea.”

“No, that’s cool,” Jordan says. “Most of the touristy stuff is packed or closed anyway.”

Liam nods. “Okay. You never did tell me what I should wear for tonight.”

Jordan rolls his eyes. “Whatever you want, Liam.”

“Is it fancy, or…?”

“It’s not a red carpet,” Jordan replies, “you could literally wear what you have on right now and no one would bat an eye. The goal is to get drunk anyway.”

Liam laughs. “Well what are _you_ wearing?”

“It’s a surprise,” Jordan replies, shooting Liam a wink.

This time Liam rolls his eyes. “Fine, be that way.”

The next moment Liam feels a hand rubbing the back of his own where it’s resting on top of the table next to his plate. When he looks up, Jordan is fighting back a laugh and his eyes are shining. Liam laughs too, turning his hand over and letting Jordan tangle their fingers together.

“I have a few ideas of how we can spend the rest of the day,” Jordan says, voice low.

They finish their breakfast fairly quickly after that.

\---

They’re hovering outside of Jordan’s friend Ricky’s apartment and Liam feels like there’s a brick resting at the bottom of his stomach.

It’s a few minutes after nine and Jordan just banged his fist against the door. On the other side Liam can hear music and laughter. It doesn’t take long for the door to be thrown open. Instead of Ricky, though, there’s a short brunette girl who looks like she’s just seen a ghost.

Her jaw drops open and her eyes widen so much that Liam’s a bit worried they’ll get stuck that way. Next to him, he hears Jordan chuckle and out of the corner of his eye sees him take a step forward. “Hi Mandy. Are you going to let us in?”

Not even Jordan’s question can shake her out of whatever stupor she’s fallen into, though. Her eyes are on Liam and she’s frozen to her spot, one arm still extended out to the door.

Now realizing who this is, though, Liam flashes his million dollar photoshoot smile and steps forward as well. “You’re Mandy? It’s lovely to meet you, love.”

Liam’s voice finally gets her attention and her eyes widen impossibly further. She swallows and says, “I am so sorry for being such a freak.”

Both Liam and Jordan laugh. Jordan extends an arm and pushes Mandy backward so she isn’t blocking the doorway anymore. “Mandy, get it together,” Jordan tells her.

Liam follows Jordan in, momentarily forgetting about where he and what he’s doing there. He faces Mandy and holds out both arms out. “Would you like a hug?”

Liam watches Mandy visibly exhale. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Liam’s barely finished his sentence before Mandy steps forward and throws her arms around him. She squeezes him just this side of too much and Liam can feel her shaking. After a moment, she steps back and claps a hand over her mouth.

“I promise I won’t be like this the rest of the night.”

Liam laughs. “It’s fine.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t freak out, but I just… I’m _so fucking excited_ to meet you.”

Jordan laughs this time. “She nearly passed out when I told her you were coming.”

Out of the corner of his eye Liam sees a few more people move towards them from the living room, their little situation drawing attention from the other partygoers.

“ _Jordan_ ,” Mandy hisses. To Liam she says, “I promise I’m not a stalker.”

“No, she just played your latest CD on repeat for us for a solid week,” comes a voice from behind them.

Liam turns to see a guy his age walking towards him. He’s Liam’s height with dark hair and an olive complexion. He grins and holds a fist out for Jordan.

“Hey, Ricky,” Jordan says, returning the bump.

“You must be Liam,” Ricky says, holding out a hand for Liam. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Liam replies. “Thanks for having me.”

“Well we knew there’s no way Jordan would come unless you were here too,” Ricky says, smirking at Jordan.

“Fuck off,” Jordan says, pushing lightly at Ricky’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you guys a drink,” Ricky says, turning around. “Oh, and you haven’t met everyone yet.”

He points out the other five people gathered around them, all of them holding bottles or Solo cups. Liam tries to remember who everyone is: Lindsay with his girlfriend Anna, a girl named Charlotte with curly blonde hair, and two other guys from their UCLA football team named Tim and John.

At Ricky’s kitchen island is a rather impressive assortment of alcohol. Jordan heaves the six pack of Miller they’d gotten at the liquor store after breakfast earlier that day onto the counter next to the other bottles nestled in buckets of ice. There are also a few bottles of vodka, a few of them flavored, as well as rum, gin, and different juices. A stack of Solo cups at some point fell over.

“What are you drinking?” Ricky asks, waving a hand over the display.

Jordan helps himself to one of the cold bottles of beer from a bucket as Tim starts unloading Jordan’s beer into one of the emptier buckets. Liam considers his options and says, “I think I’ll steal one of the Coors Lights.”

“A Coors man,” says Ricky, pulling a bottle out and handing it to Liam. “You can stay.”

Liam laughs and feels a bit of his nerves dissipate. Jordan places a hand on his lower back and leads him into the living room where the girls, John, and Lindsay already returned.

On the coffee table in the living room are a few bags of chips and dip, pretzels, and a bizarre tray of mini quiches.

“Who brought the quiche?” Jordan asks, tapping into Liam’s brain once again. He leans over and grabs one.

“Me,” Anna says, “and before you say anything, they’re delicious.”

“We ordered the pizza when you texted you were on your way over,” Lindsay says. “Should be here soon.”

“Cool,” Jordan says. He tugs Liam down next to him on the couch.

Liam feels himself tense a little as he sits in between Jordan and John, Ricky sprawled out in an arm chair and everyone else on the floor. He’s not really sure what to expect with this group. He’s been to house parties, sure, but they were usually bigger and with people he knew. Here, he only knows Jordan. And everyone has been friendly, but he still isn’t sure what to do with himself.

He’d forgotten about Mandy, of course, who takes the opportunity as the others start up their own conversations to scoot closer to Liam from her place on the floor.

“Thank you so much for the signed copy of Made in the AM,” she tells him, her eyes lighting up. “I can’t tell you how amazing that CD is.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, “I’ll be sure to tell the boys that.”

“You just… You guys sounded like _you_ ,” she goes on. “Not that you didn’t sound like you before, really, but this was different. It felt like you guys found your sound.”

Liam is aware of Jordan watching the exchange next to him, but no one else is paying them any mind. Apparently no one else is that jazzed about one fourth of One Direction being with them. Liam is actually really grateful for that.

“We didn’t have to write songs for stadiums,” Liam tells her. “We had a bit more room to play.”

Mandy nods vigorously. “I know. You could tell. I mean I love all your albums, but this one felt… I don’t know… Cohesive? Does that make sense?”

Liam nods back and smiles. “Yes, it does.”

“And I know you guys kept getting asked about doing this album without Zayn but… And please don’t take this the wrong way. You guys sound more like yourselves without him.”

Liam isn’t offended, and he isn’t surprised to hear her say that. She isn’t the first one and she won’t be the last. When they first played the album for people Liam wasn’t expecting for so many people to come up to him after and say, “You sound better without him.” But it’s true. They do.

Mandy, though, looks worried that she just made Liam hate her. He does his best to reassure her by smiling at her and saying, low enough for only her and Jordan to hear, “We think we do too.”

Jordan extends his arm out and around the back of the couch, resting it on Liam’s shoulders. He starts playing with the hair at the nape of Liam’s neck.

“I know you don’t want to talk about your music all night with me,” Mandy goes on, “but I just wanted to tell you. Because you should know. You guys sound incredible.”

“Thank you,” Liam says again, because what else can he say? He’ll never get used to hearing it, but he’ll never take it for granted either.

There’s a knock at the door again.

“Pizza!” Ricky announces, standing from his chair and reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

“Should we give him money?” Liam whispers to Jordan.

“Nah, he covered us, I’ll pay him back later,” Jordan replies.

Tim and John stand up to help Ricky bring the pizzas into the living room. Lindsay heads into the kitchen to grab plates and napkins. Anna starts making room on the coffee table by moving the bowls of chips and pretzels to a free space on the floor next to the TV.

Soon enough, everyone has a plate of pizza in front of them and the conversation has picked up again. Liam is a bit taken aback when Lindsay turns to him and goes, “So how long you in LA for, Liam?”

Liam swallows his bite of pizza. “For the week,” he answers, “I’ve got to head back to London. My mum and dad are coming to see me.”

“Do you live in London?” Anna asks.

“I have a flat there, yeah,” Liam replies, “but I’ve got a flat here, and another house in England too.” He doesn’t worry about revealing too much in front of Mandy. He knows she won’t say anything. When it’s clear no more questions are going to be fired his way, he asks, “So did you all go to uni together?”

“We all went to UCLA,” Ricky confirms. “Jordan, John, Tim, and I were all on the football team. Lindsay was the defector who played soccer.” He dodges the chip that Lindsay aims at his head. “We all graduated the same year.”

“What are you all doing now?”

“I’m getting my master’s,” Ricky says. “I also bartend, which is how John and I can afford these spacious accommodations.” The group laughs at the joke, the small two bedroom, one bathroom apartment clearly not the biggest one Liam has ever seen. “John works in accounting now. Which is boring as fuck.”

“Hey!” John says.

“Anna and I both moved back home,” Mandy explains. “LA is too expensive. We’re from the San Joaquin Valley. We went to high school together, too.”

“I’m getting my master’s too, but in San Diego,” Lindsay says around a mouthful of pizza.

“I’m a teacher,” Charlotte says, “and so is Tim.”

“Jordan’s the only one who could make the draft,” Ricky says, smirking.

There’s a noise of assent from the other former UCLA players in the room, but there is no malice. They’re all grinning at Jordan and Liam feels a little warm inside at the fact that they all clearly support their friend.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Jordan says, waving them off.

“Your boyfriend might be a hotshot pro player one day, Liam,” Ricky jokes.

Jordan must feel Liam stiffen next to him because he snakes a hand to Liam’s knee and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Jordan’s boyfriend is already a hotshot musician,” Mandy says back, throwing a beer cap at Ricky. Apparently throwing things at Ricky is standard.

“Even better,” Ricky says. “Power couple.”

“Would you leave them alone?” Lindsay says. “I swear Ricky, you talk even more when you have a few beers in you.”

Ricky grins like that is the best compliment he’s ever heard, but he returns to his pizza and lets other topics of conversation take over.

Liam remains quiet as they finish dinner, laughing at the others’ jokes and feeling pretty good all things considered. It’s just…

He and Jordan never officially put a label on it.

He’s not sure if they could be considered boyfriends. Their decision to just see how it went and be together never really involved deciding if they were going to be called boyfriends or not. Liam didn’t really expect for that fact to be exposed like this, but now isn’t the time to talk about it. And he knows Ricky didn’t mean anything by it, but it settles in Liam’s chest and stays there.

Fortunately, Liam doesn’t have time to dwell on it. After everyone is suitably full and everyone’s drinks are refilled (or they’ve selected a new one), the atmosphere becomes suitably more relaxed. Ricky dims the lights in the living room and digs out his pipe and a bag of weed. Lindsay leans more towards vaping. Liam gets a cheer from the group when he takes a hit from Lindsay’s vaporizer. They listen to music. Ricky digs out their PS4 and they all take turns playing Mortal Kombat.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Liam makes two decisions. The first is that he is going to talk to Jordan about the status of their relationship. He doesn’t think they necessarily have to put a label on it, but he definitely wants to establish where they stand.

The second is that he’s sure he wants to have sex with Jordan.

He thinks he can blame the four beers he had on the clarity of that last thought, but it would have been the same if he was sober anyway.

It definitely makes him a little bit bolder at midnight, as the group turns on the TV to watch the countdown to the new year, because Liam doesn’t think twice before grabbing Jordan by the back of the neck and kissing him in front of all his friends.

\---

Somehow they make it back to Jordan’s apartment in one piece. After midnight, Liam had switched to water so he could start to get rid of the fuzziness around the edges of his vision. Jordan had as much to drink as Liam did, with the exception of one shot of vodka that Liam is pretty sure he’s going to regret in the morning.

The early morning hours of the new year always feel weird to Liam, a bizarre melancholy settling over him. He honestly doesn’t like New Year’s. He never feels like it’s a fresh start, all the old shit from the previous year not just magically disappearing. It stays with you through the so-called new beginning, too. Maybe Liam is a tad cynical.

It’s after they’ve brushed their teeth and climbed into bed that Liam remembers his thought from earlier, about defining the relationship. He doesn’t want to bring it up now, his eyes tired and his thoughts jumbled. He doesn’t tense when Jordan crowds up next to him and throws an arm over Liam’s stomach, but Jordan must sense that his brain hasn’t shut up yet.

“I can hear you thinking, Liam,” Jordan says, and suddenly Liam is right back there in the bed of Jordan’s truck, lips kiss-swollen and heart pounding because he doesn’t know how to voice his concerns.

“We can talk later,” Liam tries, knowing that Jordan will never let it rest.

Jordan leans up on an elbow and rubs his hand across Liam’s chest. “Is it about tonight?”

Liam lets out a breath. “It isn’t anything bad,” he says, “I was just a little thrown.”

“My friends all really liked you,” Jordan says. “Ricky is half in love with you himself. He gets that way sometimes, when he’s drunk.”

Liam smiles. “I’m happy your friends are so supportive.”

Jordan shrugs but Liam can make out his smile in the dark room. “So what’s going on?”

Liam sighs. “When Ricky called you my boyfriend…”

“I’m sorry,” Jordan cuts in, “he’s an idiot. I’ll yell at him later.”

Liam shakes his head, his hair rustling against the pillow. “No, it isn’t that. I just… We never talked about it.”

Jordan is silent for a moment. Then: “No, we didn’t.”

“And it just made me realize that we _should_ ,” Liam goes on. “I know we said we wanted to try to make this work, and I don’t think we need to _label_ it, really, but I just think we need to… We need to decide what we are to each other.”

“You’re my person,” Jordan says simply, tone nonchalant, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And if you want me to call you my boyfriend, I can do that too.”

“Is that what _you_ want, though?” Liam presses.

“I want _you_ ,” Jordan answers. “If that means calling you my boyfriend, and you calling me yours, then I’m game. Unless… Unless you don’t want any of that, at all.”

“No!” Liam says quickly. “No I do. I… I want you to be my boyfriend. I know we’re still new, and everything, but… I want that. I want that to be official.”

“Then I’m your boyfriend,” Jordan says, a slow smile taking over his face.

“Okay,” Liam says. “We’re boyfriends.”

“We’re boyfriends,” Jordan confirms. Then, his eyes light up with mischief. “My boyfriend is in One Direction.”

Not to be outdone, Liam fixes Jordan with a glare and says, “Well, _my_ boyfriend is going to be an NFL player.”

Jordan rolls his eyes. “Maybe.”

Liam grins and wraps a hand around the back of Jordan’s neck. “Shut up and kiss me, _boyfriend_.”

It’s almost three in the morning, and Liam’s eyes still feel droopy. He knows Jordan is probably going to have a headache in the morning, knows that he might have one himself.

But right now, Liam is just content to kiss his boyfriend in the early morning hours of the new year.

He has a good feeling about this one.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on Tumblr at wakeupwakeupwell.


End file.
